America and the Twin Towers
by Scarlet64
Summary: Alfred has to face a terrible fact. His two favorite building, the Twin Towers, have fallen due to a terrorist attack.


It was a clear day out, a brilliant blue with no clouds in sight. Alfred sat up in his bed on September 11th, 2001. He couldn't help but smile at the clear sky as he stretched. Alfred stood before heading to the bathroom and showering. Once out of the shower and dressed in his usual attire, he was gaining a small headache. America shrugged it off as nothing and slipped on his jacket with the numbers "80" on the back and walked out the door, wanting to go for a walk. It was still morning, still a wonderful, clear sky, as Alfred walked down the street to see the World Trade Center, one of his favorite sites to see. Alfred looked around and saw that everyone that staring at something. He raised an eyebrow and looked at the same direction everyone else was looking at. That's when he saw it. Smoke, and lots of it. It rolled out of one of the Twin Towers. Alfred stared in shock. Fire maybe? He didn't know, he wasn't there when it happened. He took his gaze off the tower and tapped on the shoulder of someone nearby. "Excuse me…"

The person Alfred was talking to looked up at him, her eyes filled with sorrow and shock. "Hm?..."

"Do you know… what happened?" Alfred knew by the way the lady looked at him it wasn't going to be good.

"You didn't see? A plane… It crashed into the tower…" The lady spoke quickly and quietly, only for America to understand.

Alfred stood there in shock and brought his gaze back upon the burning building. He slowly shook his head. "No…" Alfred shook his head slowly watching the smoke grow over everybody's heads. He took a step back and felt nothing but pain as watched yet another plane crash into the other tower. "Why…" Alfred whispered. He held his side and closed his eyes tightly. The pain slowly went away and he looked back up at the tower. More smoke, and now people were watching in terror. _His_ people were in that building. How many people will be hurt? How many will be killed? Who did this and why? He gave a small look at his side. It was bleeding, go figure. He watched the building smoke for minutes on end. 'Maybe this is it… The planes didn't do much damage.' He thought. Although, being Alfred, he always thought too soon. Before he knew it he felt another sharp pain, like someone was ripping his flesh piece by piece. Alfred's legs trembled and shook as he felt the blood seep through his shirt.

He didn't know anymore. He didn't know what was happening as he slowly felt himself fall to the ground. A small pool of blood quickly formed around his body but no one paid him any attention. Not even Alfred was paying attention to the large amount of blood he was losing. He was too focused on the Twin Towers. It was bad enough that planes slammed into them, but now one of the towers were falling. For the first time, Alfred had felt defeated. For the first time, Alfred cried and _sobbed_. He lay his head in the blood as let it touch his skin. He shook with fear and pain. He closed his eyes right after he saw a man jumping from the building. He focused on the sounds. The only thing he heard was screaming and yelling. He heard the people near him crying for their family members that were inside the building. He felt another wound start to form, and he gritted his teeth as he forced himself to open his eyes. At first he only squinted, not wanting to see the sight. Then, after seeing that the _second_ Twin Tower was falling, he went wide-eyed. Fear, confusion, pain. It all washed over America.

The many minutes went on. He lay there in the pool of blood coming from his own body. He didn't feel any life in him anymore. He sobbed quietly and let tears rolled down his cheeks freely. He shook his head and continually whispered know, for it was the only thing he knew how to say at a time like this. Why did this happen? Who was it that was cruel enough to do this? Alfred didn't know. He looked at where the Twin Towers use to be, but now was nothing but the remains. Debris was everywhere. Alfred watched as firefighters ran to and fro, trying to find any survivors. Alfred shook his head again in pain and sorrow. Someone had done this to his people. The people he loved so dearly were in that building. How many had died? Did a single person even survive this? It was the most devastating thing Alfred had seen, and he had seen a lot. He had fought in the Civil war, he was there for World War I and II. Nothing, absolutely nothing, was worse than what he was going through now. Many people had died for his country in the past, but not so many at once. His clothes were soaked completely with blood but he no longer cared. He just watched in agony at the people crying. _His_ people crying.

….

Years past and nothing was the same. Every year, on September 11th and even a few days before and over a week after, Alfred felt the pain and agony he felt that day. All the fear and sorrow washed over him. He couldn't stand to walk down the street to where the Twin Towers use to exist when September 11th came. He would walk past the place though often, and would stop and stare at the cement. He'd look up and imagine the Twin Towers still standing, although knew they would never come back. All the people that died that day, all the people who lost their loved ones and cry on this day. Alfred felt their pain, their sorrow. Even now, with the terrorist found and killed off, Alfred isn't satisfied. He remembers, and always will remember, the day the Twin Towers have fallen.


End file.
